Persephone

Smoky Words resource: https://smokywords.wordpress.com/persephone/

Communal Prayer
Persephone – on Monday
Queen and Maiden, maiden and slave, abducted into a kingdom to be hers, you understand what it is like to be taken from one’s family and home, you embrace us in a new land and new family. Sweet and dark, dark and deadly, console us in our fears of what we cannot see, comfort us in our initiation of what we cannot know. Maiden of light and shadow, whose secrets ripen like the darkest fruits, first mother of the Starry Bull and last mother of my becoming, protect the souls of my ancestors, and welcome me to your meadows at my last breath. My soul rises at your name, like the flower coming through the snow, like the earth splitting to reveal Death, like the fruit splitting to reveal Life. I bow my head and bear my neck – beneath your scepter, oh Queen, may I serve; beneath your garland, oh Kore, may I rejoice. I pray to Persephone, the Iron Queen of Erebos, who welcomes and transforms the reveler. I [take action] for Persephone of the Starry Bull.
[Source & Credits]

Orphic Hymn 29. Hymn to Persephone

Persephone, blessed daughter of great Zeus, sole offspring of Demeter,
Come and accept this gracious sacrifice.
Much-honored spouse of Plouton, discreet and life-giving,
You command the gates of Hades in the bowels of the earth,
Lovely-tressed, Praxidike, pure bloom of Deo, mother of the Furies,
Queen of the netherworld whom Zeus sired in clandestine union.
Mother of loud-roaring and many shaped Eubouleus,
Radiant and luminous playmate of the Seasons, august, almighty,
Maiden rich in fruits, you alone are beloved of mortals.
In spring you rejoice in the meadow breezes,
And you show your holy figure in shoots and green fruits.
You were made a kidnapper’s bride in the fall,
And you alone are life and death to toiling mortals,
O Persephone, for you always nourish all and kill them too.
Hearken, O blessed goddess, and send forth the earth’s fruits.
You who blossom in peace, in soft-handed health,
And in a life of plenty that ferries old age in comfort to your realm,
O queen, and to that of mighty Plouton.

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